A Note on Nudity--and German Gyms

In November, as the harsh German winter descended on us spoiled pseudo-southerners, Melissa and I decided to join the gym. The thought of cracking skin, 8 measly hours of sunlight and no working heater (which I didn't have at the time) made the move necessary. We joined a sleek place which has since tried to sell us everything, from men's dandruff shampoo to chalky protein drinks and strange sugar squares filled with "energy." The classes are pretty fun (except those by a certain instructor who probably attended seminars with Richard Simmons) and our bodies have thanked us with increased flexibility and energy, occasional so-good-it-hurts pains and, last but not least, increased socialization with other bodies.

That does not mean what it sounds like it means.

I remember the first time we saw the dressing room. "Ooh, a sauna! nice lockers! nice...wow..."

We were surrounded by breasts, cheeks of both sorts and other anatomical bits and pieces from all angles imaginable. Melissa and I looked at each other and hesitated, but not in horror. Not exactly. We had been expecting this moment--how can you really live and Europe and be a prude?

I thought back to the college days. Instead of going to the dressing room, I would just peel off my layers, stuff them in a cubby and sometimes I would ask Alison to hold my shorts up while I took of my yoga pants, as they often attempted a sneaky escape across the border. I remembered when Alison and I shared a room (all four years, thank you) and we would tell the other: "Don't look! Underwear is coming off!" I remembered the discomfort felt by my compadres as we sat on the beach in South Beach, Miami and were surrounded by free, unsheltered European breasts. The suggestion to bond by bearing our own was merely meant for the thrill of watching eyes pop and faces turn bright red.

Suddenly, however, Melissa and I were going to become very close friends. The clothes came off quickly and were replaced just as speedily by new clothes. We did it! I saw your nipples, teehee!

Now, we are veterans of the process and we don't bat an eyelash when we enter the dressing room and are greeted by cheeks. One thing is still noticeable, however. Surprise: naked women compare themselves to other naked women. Shocking!

Some bitties just like to show off. They stand there, stretch, talk on the phone, lotion up, catch a glimpse (or 20) of themselves in the mirror. Yes, you've got a nice body. But you should really get a mirror at home. Most irritating are the clouds of Fa, a German spray deodorant for ladies comparable to Axe.

All in all though, the experience has allowed me to bond with my body. We're partners for life, after all--I shouldn't be ashamed of her.